


Maskless

by TheAsexualofSpades



Series: Quarantine Drabbles [148]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dammit Jim, Decompressing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Hugs, Hurt Jim, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Touch-Starved, can be platonic or romantic you decide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:07:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25991851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAsexualofSpades/pseuds/TheAsexualofSpades
Summary: They had a deal. Jim goes out on his missions, he does his work, and when he gets injured or hurt, he comes to Leonard.They may need to amend that.
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Christopher Pike, James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy, James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy & Spock, James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Leonard "Bones" McCoy & Spock
Series: Quarantine Drabbles [148]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677655
Comments: 9
Kudos: 124





	Maskless

**Author's Note:**

> im love them and we all need hugs

Fandom: Star Trek

Prompt: “Are you mad at me?”

* * *

They had a deal. Jim goes out on his missions, he does his work, and when he gets injured or hurt, he comes to Leonard.

They may need to amend that.

Jim sits on Leonard’s medical table and behaves perfectly. Smiles and answers the questions when he asks, cooperates when he asks him to turn or raise his arm or rate the sensation, even lets him run the same test three times because he’s not sure he’s getting the right results.

But he’s not okay.

He’s seen Jim fake that smile enough times to recognize the tightness in his face, the tension in his shoulders, and how he conveniently finds ways to look at the door or the computer screen with the time on it. Physically, he’s as healthy as can be. Mentally, though…

His hands have done the exam procedures enough times that it’s muscle memory at this point, leaving his mind free to wander. Not that it could wander very much right now. He considers letting Spock come down here or calling up Pike and having them help, then dismisses it almost immediately. Spock, although they _all_ know the contrary is true, gives off the aura that makes someone feel like they can’t feel, or show emotion, that it’s not acceptable. And Pike…Pike is too close to a father-figure, too close to having Jim’s ‘cannot disappoint’ mode kick in to properly get his emotions out.

And here he thought he’d get tired of dealing with people if he were a therapist.

Maybe it’s just with people he cares about.

“Alright,” he says, snapping the tricorder shut, “that’s all the tests I can think of. Passed all of them.”

“Knew you were putting more in there.”

“Right,” Leonard grumbles.

“Mhmm.”

“Well then,” he grunts, turning back around, “does that mean next time you’re not even gonna let me do the exam since you know everything?”

Jim frowns. First confirmation. Normally, he’d tease him back, say something about ‘if you want it done right do it yourself’ or some such bullshit.

“No, I wouldn’t do that, I don’t know everything!” He tries to laugh but it doesn’t come through. Second confirmation. “You’ve been doing this much longer than I have.”

“You callin’ me old?”

“No!”

He sets everything aside and leans against the counter, folding his arms. “You’re not alright, are you?”

“Didn’t you just say that I passed the exam?”

“You know what I mean, darlin’,” he corrects, “your body may be fine but your head ain’t.”

“What do you mean?”

He recounts what he’s observed, watching Jim’s face go from mildly confused to grudging pride.

“You’re getting better.” Maybe not so grudging.

“’S that a problem?”

“No,” he says softly, “it’s reassuring to know that it won’t work on everyone.”

Third confirmation. There’s a fine line for Jim between ‘won’t work on everyone’ to ‘can stop me.’

“So that means you know I can’t let you walk outta here like that.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

Leonard sighs. “I _won’t,”_ he amends.

“What do you want me to do?” Jim gestures around the room. “Do you want me to spill my guts to you? Break down and start crying? Order you to let me out?”

“You’re overworked.” Leonard uncrosses his arms and steps away from the counter. “If you keep going and going like this you’re gonna burn out your system.”

“I can’t,” he insists stubbornly, and Leonard is again reminded he’s glad he didn’t invite Pike down cause Captain ‘I Will Be A Sacrifice At All Costs’ would’ve been ordered onto rest right there, which _never_ works for Jim, “because stuff doesn’t stop happening if I take a break. I can’t just stop working.”

“Look, I’m glad you’ve saved everyone and all that, but it’s time someone told you to rest, to take care of _you.”_

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not, and furthermore, think of all the people who’ll need you in the future who won’t have you if you don’t take care of yourself.”

“I’ll survive.” Jim smiles. He _smiles._ “Don’t worry, even I can’t kill me.”

He stares at Jim. “…that’s _even more worrying.”_

Silence.

Leonard huffs a sigh and walks up to the table, stopping in front of it. “You know how I feel about you scarin’ me like that.”

Jim looks away.

“Talk to me, sweetheart,” he coaxes, “come on.”

More silence. It’s not an ‘I’m pissed off at you for being right and won’t talk to you,’ or an ‘I’m taking time to organize my words in order to talk to you’ either. Shit.

“Alright, here’s what’s gonna happen.” He rests his hand on the side of the table. “I’m gonna say what I think is happening, and all you’ve gotta do is nod or shake your head. Can you do that for me, darlin?”

Nod.

The knot in his chest loosens slightly. “Alright, here’s what I’m seeing. You’re comin’ off of duty with all these — “ he waves his hand around — “personality masks on ‘cause you have to have ‘em on to be able to work.”

Nod.

“But right now, even though you’re safe, and you know you are,” he repeats, waiting anxiously for Jim to nod before continuing, “you’ve had ‘em on for so long that it’s getting harder for you to take them off.”

Nod.

“Okay.” Easy part over. “I also see that a part of those masks is not letting people get close to you.”

Pause. No nod, no shake.

“Because there’s some kind of disconnect between the intimacy you need. Like, from getting hugged, or somethin’, and all those masks you wear to protect yourself while you’re working.”

Still nothing.

“Which means that when you’re being confronted with it after havin’ all those masks on, your brain’s gotta take minute to reorient itself and say ‘yes, I’m safe, this is okay.’ And that’s hard.”

A flash of movement makes him look down. Jim’s hand trembles on the outside of his lap. Glancing back up to Jim’s face, Leonard’s chest tugs painfully as he takes in his tight jaw and red cheeks. Poor thing either wants to run and tried to get up or…or he wants to take his hand. His fingers make an aborted jerk towards Leonard’s hand and he knows.

He makes the decision for them, taking Jim’s hand and holding it tight.

“It’s hard, not just because it makes you not want to take the masks off, but it makes it hard for you to ask for comfort. And the kind of comfort you need is largely physical. So what you need is to learn how to take the masks off again.”

“ _…how?_ ”

_Oh, darlin’, please don’t talk like that, you’re gonna make me cry._

“Jim.”

Nothing.

“Jim. Look at me.”

Shake.

“ _Jim,”_ he whispers, “please.”

Jim’s head lifts, and slowly, ever so slowly, turns up to look at him. It’s a fight, he can see that, his eyes are wide, his jaw set, even his chest is tight. His eyes dart everywhere on Leonard’s face, as if testing to see how far away he can get before he makes him look again, snapping back to his over and over again before tearing themselves away. The hand in his is mostly relaxed, but the other has a white-knuckled grip on Jim’s leg and he’s scared Jim’s going to run, because he looks like he wants to, so badly. He’s acting like Leonard’s got him pinned, even though he’s just looking at him, holding his hand, encouraging him to make eye contact.

But it’s working.

The masks are fading, he’s getting closer. Just a bit longer.

_Come on, darlin’, ask. Just ask, that’s all you gotta do.You’re always tellin’ us to ask, it’s alright, I won’t make you beg, just ask. Come on, darlin’, please._

The _instant_ that first sob rips out of Jim’s throat along with a gasped ‘please’ Leonard’s got him in his arms.

He feels Jim sag into him and tightens the hug, leaning into the table for support, letting him rest all of her weight against him. Finally, _finally._ Jim’s heart’s racing, his isn’t much better, and all he can do is try and control the stream of reassurances from his mouth.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright, darlin’, I gotcha. I’m not goin’ anywhere, it’s alright, it’s okay.” He keeps up the litany of comfort, rubbing his hands up and down Jim’s back, across the back of his head, trying to provide as much physical contact as he can. He’s so focused on his task that it takes him a minute until he feels the wetness seep through onto his shoulder.

And even though this is what they both want — he’s crying, he’s letting out his emotions in a healthy way, he’s relearning how to ask for comfort again — the fact that _Jim’s crying on his shoulder_ chokes him off, has him burying his head in the crook of Jim’s neck and just holding on for dear life.

The hug’s become as much about him reassuring himself that he’s safe than it was about making sure Jim knew he was safe.

Which means it’s not ending for at _least_ a few more minutes.

They have to separate, eventually, because Leonard’s communicator keeps going off and neither of them can stop it from within the hug so Leonard reluctantly loses his death-grip enough to slap irritatedly at the fucking beeping device from hell. It makes Jim giggle so it’s okay, but he’s seriously considering tossing it under a pile of paperwork PADDs and never looking for it again.

When he comes back, Jim’s breathing’s still not quite right and his posture’s all curled up and scared, but the masks are gone. Jim keeps hold of his hand, like a child with a comfort teddy, and uses it to tug him closer even though they both know if they hug again one of them will fall asleep like that and the other one won’t get to move. It’s happened before; Jim fell asleep on him in the observation lounge, he fell asleep on Jim in his office, the list goes on. He’s sure at least one of — if not more — the nurses has a complete version.

That doesn’t mean they can’t stand really close together, though. He watches Jim’s face, looking for any signs of another outburst, when he notices his cheeks going red. Then he reaches forward and tries to scrub at his tunic with his sleeve, trying to get out the stains from his crying.

“…Leo?”

“What is it, darlin?”

“Are…are you mad at me?”

_What in tarnation gave you that idea?_ “No,” he says quietly. He catches Jim’s other hand and holds it tight, silently communicating that he doesn’t need to do that, and gives both hands a squeeze, “because you kept your promise and came to see me so I can take care of you.”

“But I keep crying,” he blurts, and goddamnit Leonard’s heart is just going to give out because he swears he sees a few tears fly off Jim’s face as he wrenches his gaze away.

Reaching to take his chin, he turns Jim’s face to look at him, wiping away the last tear that rolls down his cheek. “Darlin’, I’d be more worried if you weren’t.”

And godfuckingdamnit he’s going to stab that communicator.

“McCoy.”

“Doctor!”

“What do you want, Sulu?”

“Report to the Bridge.”

“For what?”

“Spock made a point about this planet’s civilization and I want your input.”

Leonard glances up at Jim, who mouths: ‘he just wants to watch you two fight, doesn’t he?’

He raises an eyebrow. ‘And you don’t?’

Jim’s innocent look fools no one.

“Gimme a minute.”

“Thank yo—!” Sulu gets cut off as he snaps the communicator shut.

“You can go,” Jim murmurs, “it’s okay.”

“Nuh-uh,” Leonard frowns, shaking his finger at him, “don’t you start puttin’ that thing back on, we just got it off.”

“I’m not.” He gives Jim a look. “I’m _not!”_

“Sure, kid.” At his worried little face, he softens. “Are you feelin’ a little better, sweetheart?”

Jim nods. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” He wets a towel and passes it to him, waiting for him to wipe his face off and taking it back. “Whattya say, you wanna come watch me try and put up with their bullshit for a while?”

His giggle forces that smile back onto Leonard’s face because he’s downright _adorable_ when he’s happy like that. “Okay.”

“Alright then, come on.”

He lifts Jim down from the table. Cleaning his tunic of the few noticeable bits that won’t dry up on their own as Jim wipes the last of the salt from his eyes, he mutters: “swear if that hobgoblin tries to cite ‘emotional irrelevancy’ one goddamn time I’m gonna boot his green-blooded ass off the Bridge.”

Yeah, he’s alright now. And he’s perfectly content with that.

(Even if Jim refuses to call him anything other than Dr. Marshmallow for a week.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come yell at me on tumblr while we're all in quarantine.


End file.
